


Little Lion of 1776

by Daughter of Vayu (aquaregia)



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, 19th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Comfort, Family, Fluff, George and Martha Washington are Alex's Adoptive Parents, M/M, Not Beta Read, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, Unreliable Narrator, only a bit, writers au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 08:03:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13654872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquaregia/pseuds/Daughter%20of%20Vayu
Summary: Alexander Hamilton was a writer. He loved his job. His life was fine, at least by his definition.One day, his grayscale life changed when three roommates from across the hallway brought him in to their weird little family. And along the way, Alex found love.





	1. Alexander Alone

**Author's Note:**

> My first work in this fandom! So exciting~
> 
> This work is inspired by the anime and manga series, "3-gatsu no Lion", which I adore. You might notice several plot points MIGHT be similar, but this thing has its own plot.
> 
> Also, English is clearly not my first language, so expect some errors. I'm in dire need of a Beta Reader. Anyone wants to volunteer? *nervous laugh* Feel free to tell me if I had to fix something in the comment, and also feel free to tell me if I should put something on the tag as well. Always remember that the rating may change as the story progress, though I'm pretty sure it may not reach Explicit.
> 
> Comments and kudos feed my muse and fingers to write~

  


When Alexander Hamilton woke up from his sleep, he was facing the white ceiling of his bedroom. The sun light burst through the windows of his room, bare of any curtain since Alex never got a chance to furnish his apartment. There was barely anything in his room. His bedroom only had one bed and a small closet where he put his clothes in. Another bedroom he used as the library and his office, where he put his boxes of books there along with empty shelves that was installed before Alex moved in. The last bedroom was left empty, it was meant to be a guest room, but Alex wasn’t in the mood to buy stuffs for his new place.

  
He was lying down for a few minutes before he pushed himself up, walking out of his room to the living room. It was just as empty as the rest of the apartment. The only furniture in the living room was the old couch and a coffee table. His laptop sat on the coffee table along with an empty mug of coffee he hadn’t washed. He didn’t have television or any kind of entertainment in his place. He didn’t feel like need it. He could get those things from his computer anyway. His kitchen was no better. He only got a fridge, electric stove, and a pan he used to cook instant food from noodles to hamburger. He rarely cooked anyway, and he could always call for takeout.

  
Alex looked around the apartment, with all the spaces he didn’t feel stuffed. This was good. He made the right decision after all. He wanted to live independently, in a new city far away from his adopted family back in Virginia. He could be a new man here, he was sure. He had spent the last two years in this city anyway when he finished up his college degree, but now, he could focused on his work.

  
Writing.

  
He opened his fridge, trying to find something to eat, but just like his apartment, his fridge was also empty except for the milk carton and a dried out strawberry he didn’t know where it came from. He poured the milk to a glass and started to hunt down for food in his kitchen. He found some bread, and after making sure it wasn’t moldy, he sliced it. He was lucky he found peanut butter jar in the back of his kitchen cabinet, and spread it on his bread, making a simple sandwich. He nodded before he ate his breakfast in silence. He checked his phone for any news, but nothing was interesting. His agent called three times the night before and his e-mail box was full, he didn’t bother to check on them.

  
After he finished his breakfast and milk, Alex went to the couch. As he sat down and took his laptop, he started to work. He always told everyone that he set the schedule, to write every day. From 7 o’clock to 5 o’clock was work time with thirty minutes lunch break (at least that was what he told Tench Tilghman, his agent, and his adoptive parents, he usually just worked all the way through the night until he crashed from lack of sleep, not healthy, but he still did it—and he still spare some time for his walk around the city, so at least he got exercise squeezed in). That was how he managed his schedule, and how he managed to churning out book after book being a prolific writer he was. He loved his job, it was the only thing that kept him going. The only thing that pulled him out of his circumstances.

  
Alexander worked until lunch, but then he remembered he didn’t have anything to eat anymore, he was torn between going out for lunch or just called for takeout. He remembered it had been awhile since the last time he actually going out of his empty apartment and he could hear his adoptive Mom sighing and told him to get out more. So Alex went to his bedroom, took a warm coat and his wallet, put on his shoes, and slipped the phone in his pocket. He locked the door and walked up to the elevator.

  
The apartment building he was living in was huge, at least twenty floors. Alex lived in 17th Floor, apartment 76. He didn’t mean to live so extravagantly by living in a huge place like this by himself, but he got the money and he wanted to live somewhere with a great view of river. He could get it from this apartment. He could get a roommate if he wanted, but he didn’t want anyone bothering his personal space. He liked having all the spaces all for himself after years of having to share with someone.

  
The ride down the elevator was uneventful. The elevator didn’t stop until it reached the ground floor and Alexander walked out of the building. He headed to the nearby fast food restaurant, ordered a burger and French fries for lunch.

  
Thirty minutes later, he was heading back to his place to continue his work until later. He could always call for takeout since he had going out for lunch.

  
Alexander could take care of himself.

  


* * *

  


Alexander Hamilton was a writer, a novelist though he preferred to be called a writer since he wasn’t just wrote novels (though majority of his work were novels) he also wrote poems and essays and short-stories, and he was confident he was pretty famous despite his age. He had started to write for as long as he could remember, though his first work published was back when he was 14 years old. Now when he was older and a better writer than his 14 years old self, Alex couldn’t help but felt slightly embarrassed by the first book he wrote, ‘Hurricane’. He liked to think of it as a semi-autobiography, as he retold his story from when he was younger and living in a small Caribbean island until he met his adopted family, the Washingtons. He gave the finished work to his Mom, Martha Washington, as birthday present, and when she read it, she asked Alexander if it was okay to send the work to a publisher. Alexander never really thought about it before, but he agreed. 

  
The book became a huge success, especially when people knew it was written by a 14 years old boy. His parents, George and Martha, looked so proud of him, and Alexander found himself wanting make them even more proud. He decided he wanted to be a writer. It was the way he could make his parents happy of him, they would keep Alex with them if he could be the son they were proud of. Alex was young; the Washingtons didn’t know much about literary work. His Dad, George Washington, decided they should find a literary agent to help Alex managing his work because they wanted the best for their son. 

  
Tench Tilghman had been Alex’s agent since he was 15 years old and abd at that time he was working on his second book. His Mom and Dad were strict with his education, so Alex should also put attention to his school work at their demand. Alex didn’t mind. As long as he could stay and made them proud, he didn’t mind.

  
Now Alex was 25, he had been writing books since he was 14. He had left the Washingtons’ house when he got a scholarship to go to Columbia. At that time, instead of writing just to make the Washingtons proud, all he wanted was to quickly become independent. He could never hate his adoptive family, they were perfect. George and Martha were the best parents anyone could ask for. But Alex knew he wasn’t well liked in that house. The Washingtons’ children hated him, at least he knew Jacky did. Alex knew he was intruding their lives when he came to live with the Washingtons. Alex got all the attention from George and Martha, making Jacky and Patsy set aside once Alex became famous as young prodigal writer. He knew he couldn’t break the family he loved even more, Alex decided to leave once he got the scholarship.

  
He left Mount Vernon estate and went to New York. Got his degree in journalism (of all thing) before continuing his work, the only thing he had. Alex was a writer, and he would write his way out of his problems.

  
Eleven years later with almost twenty book titles under his belt and mostly listed as best-sellers, Alex was free. He still called George and Martha from time to time, but he liked living alone.

  
He was fine.

  
As he sat in his empty apartment, fingers typing on his laptop until the only sound were the soft humming from the computer and the clacking of the keys as Alex’s fingers dance across the keyboard to create another master piece.

  
Alexander was fine.

  


* * *

  


He called Tench when he finished the manuscript for his latest book, ‘It’s Quiet Uptown’, and his agent agreed to pick it up later in the afternoon. For once, Alexander stopped working and sagged onto the couch. His eyes fell on the fridge and he remembered he should go to buy some grocery. He should buy some curtains too since he kept getting woken up far too early in the morning with the sun light hitting his face without any barrier between the window and his bed.

  
Maybe he should buy TV while he was at it.

  
Alexander looked at his phone screen, finding new texts from his Mom. Martha had made it her mission to check on Alex once a day, and she would throw a fit if Alex didn’t call or texted back. His Mom asked him to come home for Thanksgiving. Alex looked at the calendar on his phone and sighed. She was right, it was almost Thanksgiving, but Alex didn’t felt like going home. He wondered if Tench could find him some excuse to miss it. Maybe a book signing or book tour.

  
He texted back telling her he would try to find time. He felt bad lying to his parents. Martha and George were the best things in Alex’s teenage years, but he couldn’t help but wanting to avoid the looks Jacky and Patsy would give him. Well, Patsy would just give him indifferent look, but Jacky would clearly glare at him, and Alex didn’t feel like spending a few days suffering from that. He knew George’s relationship with Jacky had been rocky, especially these past few years, and Alex knew he was the one that caused the rift between them. Him and his books.

  
Alexander sighed as he curled up on his couch, wrapping his blanket around himself tightly. It wasn’t that cold, but Alex liked the warmth and comfort from his blanket.  
His fridge was still empty, and Alex didn’t feel like going out to shop.

  
He just wanted to sleep.

  


* * *

  


Alex was hungry. He didn’t feel like calling for takeout or pizza, he wanted something else. Tench had come to pick up his latest work, quick-scanning the page before nodded in satisfaction. The man asked if he wanted to go out for a drink, but Alex refused politely. He wasn’t the best company at the moment and he was tired.

  
Still, he had to eat something. He dragged himself out of his couch, put on his jacket and brought his wallet and phone along before heading out. He had to do some grocery shopping, and by grocery shopping he meant to buy frozen food and more instant noodles. He wasn’t that much of a cook anyway, so he never bothered buying real ingredients. It took him thirty minutes until he got everything he needed as he pushed his cart to the register.

  
In the end, he regretted his decision to walk to the supermarket.

  
He bought too many things and there was no way he could carry everything by himself now. He was ready to get an Uber, but he noticed his phone was dead.

  
Great.

  
“Hey, you’re okay there, Monsieur?” a thick accented voice asked, making Alexander looked up.

  
In front of him was a man, around Alex’s age. He was tall, with friendly face, dressed in fashionable coat, carrying a small grocery bag with him.

  
“Uh… yeah… I’m fine…” Alex mumbled, suddenly feeling stupid standing in front of the supermarket and surrounded by his groceries.

  
“You don’t look fine, mon ami,” the man chuckled. “You went a bit overboard, no?”

  
Alex blushed. “I was going to call a taxi… but my phone is dead…” he admitted.

  
“You live in the area? I don’t mind driving you home,” he pointed at a shiny blue sedan parked not too far from them. “My name is Gilbert du Motier, you can call me Lafayette,” he introduced himself. “I live in The Liberty Apartments.”

  
Alex’s eyes widened. “I live… in the same building,” Alex said slowly.

  
“No kidding? I live in the 17th floor, how about you?”

  
“17th,” Alex said.

  
“We’re neighbors! Now I must insist on helping you. There’s no way you can find a taxi in this area at this hour,” Lafayette said. “And you don’t have to worry, I’m not a serial killer or kidnapper,” he winked.

  
“You would tell me the same even if you are,” Alexander mumbled as Lafayette helped him carried everything to his car.

  
“True. I’m sorry but I didn’t catch your name?” Lafayette asked.

  
“It’s Alexander,” Alexander said.

  
“Alexander, huh? Can I call you Alex?”

  
“Sure,” Alexander nodded. Most people called him Alex anyway. Only George called him Alexander. Well, George and Jacky.

  
“Hop in then. I’ll drive you home.”

  


* * *

  


With the two of them, it was a lot easier to carry all the groceries to Alex’s place. Lafayette was very chatty, and ever since they got in the car, the man didn’t stop talking about mundane things like weather, celebrity gossips, fashion trends, a crappy film he watched last week with his roommates. Lafayette told Alex he lived with two roommates who had been friends with him since college. One of them was a nurse and the other was a tailor. Lafayette himself was a photographer, telling Alex proudly that he was quite famous.

  
They stopped in front of Alex’s place, apartment 1776.

  
“Oh, you live right across us!” Lafayette grinned, pointed at the apartment number 1777. The door was a bit further down the hallway. “Do you need help carrying everything inside?” he asked.

  
“No, I can take it from here,” Alexander said. “Thank you for your help, Lafayette,” he smiled.

  
“You’re welcome,” Lafayette nodded. “Say, how about joining us for dinner tomorrow? Hercules will cook, and let me tell you, his cooking is better than any five star restaurant,” the Frenchman said. “You should join us since we’re neighbors and all.”

  
“I don’t want to intrude…” Alex shuffled awkwardly.

  
“Nonsense! John and Herc will be happy to have you for dinner,” Lafayette patted his shoulder. “Come in at 5.30, we will have a feast!”

  
Alexander couldn’t help but feel warm when Lafayette patted his shoulder. In the end, he nodded and smiled.

  


* * *

  


That night, Alexander couldn’t sleep. He sat in his living room and started to write without care until he was too exhausted to continue.

  


* * *

  


The next day, Alex didn’t know what made him even considered Lafayette’s invitation as he stood awkwardly in front of the door of apartment 1777. He was ready to bolt out and returned to his own apartment when the door opened and a man stood in front of Alex. He was tall, big, and muscular, dressed in dark blue sweater and jeans under a black apron he had on. He looked intimidating but his face was friendly, just like Lafayette’s, and Alex was sure he could snap Alex into two like a toothpick.

  
The man raised an eyebrow.

  
“You’re Alex,” his voice was deep. It wasn’t a question, but Alex nodded nonetheless.

  
Then, the man smiled warmly, just like Lafayette did, before opening the door wider to let Alex in. “Come in! Laf told us about you joining us for dinner,” he said lightly. “I’m Hercules, by the way. Hercules Mulligan, Laf’s roommates.”

  
“Alexander. You can call me Alex.”

  
“You live across the hall way, right? Apartment 1776? I didn’t know someone has moved in already. If I did, I would’ve come with some gifts,” Hercules chuckled. “But now you’re here, you can sit with Laf in the living room while I prepare dinner.”

  
He led Alex into the living room. Alex couldn’t believe this place had the same layout as his. The place had been furnished unlike Alex’s empty rooms. The living room was filled with a large couch, several smaller couches, a coffee table, and TV set. Alex noticed a few home entertainments consoles stacked neatly on the shelves. The place felt warm and homely, despite being lived in by three guys. Lafayette was settled on the couch, reading a book Alex didn’t recognize before he saw Alex had stepped into the room.

  
“Alex! You make it,” he smiled and pulled Alex into aggressive hug and planted two kisses on his cheeks. “I was planning on picking you up myself if you didn’t show up, but I’m glad you did. Sit down,” he patted the empty spot on the couch next to him. “John is still at the hospital at the moment, but I’m sure he would join us soon.”

  
“Okay,” Alex nodded and sat awkwardly.

  
He couldn’t remember the last time he got invited to someone else’s house. Even since he was young, he never good at making friends, let alone being invited to their houses. He was a loud mouth, sure people flocked around him from time to time, but he never really close to someone to be invited over to their house. He was unsure how to act, so he just sat there, nervously playing with the hem of his hoodie.

  
“Don’t be nervous Alex, you’re doing fine,” Lafayette chuckled. “Do you like reading? We have a small collection, though most of them are John’s. Or, I can show you my works.” Lafayette set aside his book, giving Alex the chance to read the title. ‘WAIT!’ by Aaron Burr, Alex smiled slightly at Lafayette’s choice of book. He knew Burr, they had been working together once. He might consider Burr as a colleague.

  
“Sure,” Alex nodded. Lafayette led the tour around the apartment, showing him the photographs he took, adorning the walls of the apartment; most of them were black and white. Alex couldn’t help but entranced by the photographs. It was like looking through another dimension the way Lafayette played with the lights and shadows, creating something unearthly from mundane things like trees or wrinkled papers. Alex could see why Lafayette was proudly saying he was famous. He was clearly a very talented man.

  
They roamed through the bookshelves on one side of the room. The collection wasn’t as extensive as Alex’s, but he could see the owners had good taste in literature. A few books from the writers he knew personally; James Madison, Eliza Schuyler, Aaron Burr, even a few works of Thomas fucking Jefferson of all people. He was blushing when he saw his books filled one section of the shelves, including his first book he wrote when he was 14, ‘Hurricane’, looking more worn out than the rest. He was hoping none of them would make a connection between Alexander and A. Hamilton who wrote those books. He didn’t feel like telling people about it especially his neighbors.

  
Hercules called them from the kitchen, saying the dinner was ready. They were ready to eat when the front door was opened and another person entered the house. Alex looked up from his place on the couch to see a man walked in. He wasn’t as tall as Lafayette and Hercules, but still taller than Alex. His hair was pulled into a loose ponytail and he was still dressed warmly in his coat. He was smiling, and Alex felt slightly awkward since he was staring and the guy was cute.

  
“Sorry I’m late, guys. The traffic is terrible,” the man sighed. “You guys already eat?”

  
“Not yet, John. This is Alex by the way,” Hercules introduced him.

  
The man’s eyes quickly fell on to Alex who was still sitting awkwardly on the couch, clutching his plate of pasta. The man smiled brightly when he saw Alex and offered his hand. “John Laurens,” he introduced himself.

  
“Alexander,” Alex shook his hand, still blushing. “You can call me Alex.”

  
“Nice,” John nodded. “Well, I’ll change first and join you guys after. Just start the movie without me,” he walked to one of the bedrooms (Alex assumed it was his).

  
Alex looked up to Lafayette and Hercules.

  
“Movie?” he asked in confusion.

  
“Well, it’s just an old tradition of ours to watch a movie while having dinner,” Lafayette chuckled. “I hope you don’t mind?”

  
“It’s okay,” Alex said. He used to write while having dinner anyway. He wasn’t that big of a movie fan himself, hence he never really needed a television in his place. Alex couldn’t help but feel how removed he was from this kind of things, dinner with friends, watching movies. Sure, he had written about them before convincingly, but he couldn’t remember the last time he did something like this. The Washingtons used to have family movie night, and Alex loved it. But when Jacky and Patsy grown distant, they rarely did it until it just stopped completely.

  
When John returned, he joined them on the couch as Hercules handed him his food and they started the movie. It was a French film. Alex didn’t know the title but he still enjoyed it. They finished dinner and Lafayette brought out his favorite wine. Alex accepted it as they continued watching the two hours movie.

  
Alex didn’t remember when exactly he fell asleep.

  
He was warm, he was full, and the wine was wonderful. Alex just closed his eyes and fell asleep between John’s warmth and Lafayette’s.

  


* * *

  


“He fell asleep,” John whispered to Lafayette, trying to not wake the man sleeping between them, snuggling warmly.

  
“He looks like he needed it,” Lafayette said. There were dark shadows under his eyes, a sign of lacking sleep. “He looked so lost when I saw him in the supermarket yesterday. Far too skinny and too pale to be healthy. And I saw he just bought junk food, so I thought I’ll invite him for dinner once I know we’re neighbors.”

  
“I didn’t know he moved in to 1776, I rarely saw him around,” Hercules said. The man knew almost everyone on their floor and the floor above and below. It was strange he didn’t realize someone just moving in to the apartment across the hallway.

  
John pulled a blanket they always kept around the couch and wrapped it around Alex since he looked cold. Alexander was a weird guy. He looked a bit skittish and awkward during dinner, yet slowly he got more comfortable. He was small, shorter than John, with thin shoulders and pale skin (John suspected it was from the lack of sleep). His hair was messy curls pulled into a bun. Still, his clothes looked nice, and he lived alone in this apartment building said he had enough money. He just looked a bit less groomed, especially since John lived with two fashion savvy men.

  
“Do you think we should wake him up?” John asked.

  
“Nah, just let him sleep for now,” Hercules shrugged. “I’ll wash the dishes.”

  
John nodded gratefully as he put Alex into more comfortable position. He looked up, exchanging knowing looks with Lafayette as they let their new neighbor slept on their couch. That night, their trio had just grown in numbers as Alex unconsciously taken as their baby brother.

  
Besides, they had Hercules to be the mother hen.

  


* * *

  


Alex was embarrassed when he found out he was falling asleep in practically strangers’ house. He didn’t mean to, but everything was so warm, and he was full of delicious homemade food and expensive wine. And the lull of French words from the television reminded him of his Mama, not Martha, but Rachel Faucette Hamilton. He felt too comfortable snuggled between John and Lafayette, it was all a dangerous combination. Not to mention, he barely got any sleep he night night when he decided it was a good idea to write through the whole night.

  
When he woke up, it was morning already, he was still snuggled up under the warm blanket on the couch. He pushed himself up, watching the flurry that was John Laurens running all over the place.

  
“Alex! You wake up,” John grinned when he saw how groggy Alex was as he pulled down the blanket. “I’m sorry, I wish I could stay longer, but I’m almost late now. Laf and Herc already left for work, but they have breakfast already prepared for you,” John handed him a plate of pancakes tower. “And this one is for lunch, Herc said you need to eat more. Just heat it up before you eat it,” John handed a Tupperware container to Alex, who was still confused. “There’s still some coffee left in the pot, feel free to finish it. Here’s the apartment key, just lock it before you leave.”

  
Everything was too fast for Alex sleepy brain to catch up.

  
“I’ll see you later, Alex!”

  
And then he left.

  
Alex realized he was alone in strangers’ house. After letting him sleep on the couch, Hercules was kind enough to make him breakfast and lunch. And John trusted him enough to let him locked up the place. Alex’s stomach clenched when he felt the unfamiliar warmth as he ate the fluffy pancakes drenched in syrup slowly.

  
These people just took him in like this after knowing him for a short time. 

  
Alex finished his pancakes and drank his coffee before he washed everything and tidied up the couch. He took the Tupperware with him and reminded himself to return it with the apartment’s key as he made his way back to his place.

  
His fingers were itching to write more.

  


  



	2. Common Cuckoo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is beta-read by Kayla, thank you very much for your help!
> 
> Thank you so much for all the comments and kudos! Please keep them coming and feed the hungry writer~

 

Alexander didn't know when or how the guys from apartment 1777 became his friends. Maybe it was when Lafayette helped him out in that supermarket, or maybe it was when they had the movie-slash-dinner where he accidentally fell asleep on their couch. Either way, they had taken him in without hesitation. They kept inviting him over for dinner, and if Alex didn’t come himself, Lafayette, John, or Hercules would certainly knock on his door. John would join them whenever he could, but sometimes he would have to work. He had a stricter schedule than Hercules and Lafayette. Lafayette worked with his own schedule, sometimes he would be busier when he was planning on having an art show, but he was pretty much making his own agenda. Last week, he was in Rome for work so Alex just had dinner with Hercules and John. Hercules worked for his family owned high end tailor shop, making custom suits and dresses for his exclusive clients, mostly celebrities. He worked from 9 o’clock to 5 o’clock. John worked at the hospital as an ER nurse. Compared to Lafayette’s, John’s schedule was more predictable, even though sometimes he had to work at crazy hours (not that Alex worked normal hours either).

But today, it was only Alex and Hercules, dining together (Hercules’ homemade lasagna was heavenly) while they ate they watched James Bond. Hercules loved James Bond and spy movies in general. John was at the hospital and Lafayette was out of town for a photo shoot.

Without Lafayette and John around, the conversation was more measured. Usually it would be filled with Lafayette gushing about his fiancée and John would talk about the shitty day he had at the hospital followed by long ranting and some cursing. With Hercules, the conversation was more of trading gossip. Hercules’ clients were often high profile so he always had fresh gossip about politics and celebrities. Alex enjoyed having a political discussion with Hercules, sometimes the conversations were about particular news he had heard from his clients visiting his shop or from the expensive coffee shop next door. Alex never talked about his work, and none of the 1777’s residences ever asked him about it. He still didn’t mention that he was the writer of the whole section of books in their bookshelves, something that still made him torn up between proud and embarrassed.

He was lucky that he never put his picture on the cover jacket of his books.

Alex made sure he didn’t fall asleep on the couch again, and he thanked Hercules for the delicious meal. Hercules just patted his head gently and told him to come again tomorrow since Lafayette would be coming home and they would have a feast.

When he returned to his apartment, he looked at his phone and saw another text from his mom asking about Thanksgiving. He was still conflicted about it. Sure, he missed his Mom and Dad, but he didn’t want to see the hateful looks from Jacky and indifferent looks from Patsy. He knew it was his fault how torn apart Jacky and George’s relationship became after he came to live with the Washingtons.

John Parke Custis was the stepson of George Washington. He was Martha’s son from her previous marriage to a rich businessman. But her husband died, and she inherited all of his fortune. She became a widow, with two children, John Parke Custis or Jacky, and Martha Parke Custis or Patsy. Jacky was five when George married Martha. After that, George became the father figure for Jacky. When Alex came to the Washington family, he was thirteen and Jacky was fifteen. Alex had just lost his family, and the Washingtons easily took him into theirs. They adopted him, and raised him as their own son.

Alex was young, he was scared being taken away from his new family who was nice to him. George might be busy with his work as a Senator, but he made sure he always had time for his children. Martha wasn’t exactly a stay at home mother either since she had her charities and social work to do, she still loved her children so much and just like George, she always had time for them. Alexander liked his adoptive siblings. Jacky was older, even though he could be mean, he always let Alex borrow his books. Patsy was younger and she didn’t talk a lot, but she let Alex help her with her homework. It was good at first, Alex had found himself a home and he was clinging on to it.

Until Alex showed his first book manuscript to his mother and gave it to her as her birthday present. The astonishment and pride in Martha’s eyes reassured Alex that they would never let him go. Alex never thought much about his writing before. He just wanted to put his thoughts onto paper and doing that formed a narrative. His first work told the story of his life before he came to the Washingtons, before he found a family of his own. Martha loved it. She cried when she hugged Alex, whispering how much she loved him. And in that moment, Alex knew he would do this again, writing and making his parents proud.

It was her idea to have his work published. Alex let her, and she sent it to one of the publishing houses she knew. Alex’s first book got published when he was still 14 and it quickly became a success. A. Hamilton became famous as a young writer, TV stations wanted to invite him to their talk shows, newspapers and magazines called for an interview. Martha and George ushered him away from the limelight since Alex was thought to be too young for that, they refused the TV interview, but they still let the reporters from magazines and newspapers interview him. Alex wanted to argue that his mind was older, but he held his tongue. He didn’t want to lose his home. Not after how proud he had made his parents. Alex would cling onto this so he wouldn’t be alone, even though he knew it was ridiculous, he knew that the Washingtons wouldn’t throw him out of their house, but the fear was still there.

Martha and George made sure that he would still focus on his education. Alex didn’t mind. He could juggle his responsibilities just fine. His parents dotted on him, they were proud of him. They encouraged him to write more, George even bought him a new laptop to make it easier for Alex instead of using the desktop PC at home so he could write wherever he wanted. George and Martha even helped him finding a trusted literary agent for Alex when he told them he wanted to take his writing seriously.

That’s when the relationship between the Washingtons and their children started to crumbled. Jacky started making friends with the wrong people and got into trouble in school. Patsy was more quiet than before. Alex had taken all of his parent’s  attention for himself, he became the golden boy of the family, the one George and Martha were proud of.

He didn’t mean to.

He just wanted a place where he belonged, a family. He never meant to take Jacky and Patsy’s parents away from them. Alex was just scared his adoptive parents would leave if they knew Alex was nothing special. Alex thought that the only way to keep them from giving Alex up was to make them proud.

Alex was sixteen when he decided he would leave the Washingtons once he got to college. He got in with a scholarship so the costs wouldn’t burden his parents. With the money he had from writing, he would be able to support himself. Alex had written three books by that point, and all of them were successful. He kept writing because he knew it was the only way he could fix his family.

Maybe if he left Jacky would be closer to George again.

Maybe if he left Patsy would smile more.

When Alex closed his eyes, a vivid memory resurfaced in his mind. He was fifteen, and he was writing his new book. He found himself in George’s library for research. The library was huge, and not only filled with fiction collections, but a lot of nonfictional works. Mostly books about animals because George was always fascinated by them. Alex remembered a book about birds that he had found in George’s huge library in Mount Vernon. He couldn’t remember the title or the writer, but he just found that particular book amongst other books about dogs’ care (something else that George enjoyed). The book was thick and heavy, filled with information about birds from all over the world with glossy pages and colorful illustrations.  

Alex sat himself down and started reading it, opening the pages at random until he stumbled across a passage about the cuckoo bird. The book explained that there were a large minority of cuckoo engaged in brood parasitism, in which they lay their eggs in other bird’s nest. One of the original host’s eggs would be pushed out of the nest to make room for the new egg of the cuckoo, and the host parent would feed the cuckoo chick despite having one of their eggs smashed to the ground so that the cuckoo chick could grow. Even though this cuckoo chick had practically murdered one of their own children, the host parents would keep feeding it until it became larger than themselves and monopolized the whole nest.

He stopped reading the passage and just set down as the words sunk into his mind, inside the library, surrounded by books. At that moment, he realized something.

Alex was the cuckoo; the Washington’s house was the nest. And Jacky was the egg that he destroyed to create a place of his own.

Alex had his own messed up life and when he came to the Washingtons, he made a mess of their family.

And like a cuckoo bird, Alex left the nest behind once he could, after taking so much from it.

He knew it was better to be alone.

 

* * *

 

 

Alex stretched out on the couch after sitting for five hours writing. He was hungry and his stomach growled as he made his way to his kitchen. He made himself a peanut butter sandwich for lunch and a cup of coffee. He returned to his couch and checked his phone. Alex opened his social media accounts to see if he could find anything interesting. Nothing so far.

Tench texted him and told him the publisher wanted to release his book before Christmas, on the 24th, Alex didn’t mind. His manuscript rarely needed some reworks anyways, since Alex always made sure it was perfect. Even if he was a bit late to his deadline, no one would mind it since it rarely needed major editing. Alex had his own reputation to uphold after all. Tench asked about his next work, but Alex still wasn’t sure. He just wrote whatever he wanted, he didn’t even bother to create a draft for this one.

He had worked with Tench for more than a decade, he knew his agent understood. Alex promised he would come up with something after New Years. As usual, Tench told him to take care of himself. The man had taken Alex as his own son, and Alex knew the man cared a lot about him. He was the golden goose after all, Alex thought to himself. Tench needed him to work, writing books after books so they would make money.

Alex returned to his laptop and started typing.

He only had writing  now.

 

* * *

 

 

Alex liked public speaking. He remembered how when he was in high school he always enjoyed debate. He wondered when he started to dislike it. He was a young writer, his books got adapted into movies and TV shows, and of course people would want to know about the man behind them. He liked when he got invited to schools or universities, talking to people about his writing, encouraging people to achieve their dreams. He didn’t enjoy the television talk shows that much, and always told his agent to refuse that offers.

When an e-mail came from Angelica Schuyler, an old college friend, asking him to join the writers panel at the university she worked at, he said yes. The panel would be about writing and diversity in literature.  At least he didn’t have to leave town for it, and he knew a lot of people in the panel (though he cringed when he saw a few names that he didn’t particularly like). James Madison (Alex liked his works, they collaborated once writing a novel and it was a huge success), Aaron Burr (Alex wondered why anyone bothered to invite Burr to talk about his opinion when he had none), Thomas Jefferson (Alex wondered why people kept reading his shitty works), Eliza Schuyler (Alex liked Eliza, and her works were always amazing—not to mention she was Angelica’s sister and one of the few people Alex could call his best friend), and Maria Lewis (Alex didn’t know much about her, but he often heard her name mentioned around).

After he agreed, he started to hunt down Madison’s books in his boxes in the library (he hadn’t got around to put them on his shelves). ‘ _Quid Pro Quo_ ’, ‘ _Potomac_ ’ and his short stories collection, ‘ _Highlights!_ ’. These were a few books by Madison that Alexander liked. Not including the book they had been working together, and the biggest accomplishment in Alexander’s writing career, ‘ _5, 29, and the Other 51_ ’. Even after five years, people still talked about that book and it never seemed to stop. Alex knew there would be a movie adaptation, and he knew one of the famous Hollywood directors was interested. He let Madison chose who directed it as Alex didn’t know much about movie directors or Hollywood in general.

He tried to find Burr’s book, and he found one, stuck deep inside the box, it was covered in cobwebs. Alex felt bad for Burr who must have worked hard for this one. It was Burr’s first book, and the only book he wrote that Alex liked. The title, ‘ _WAIT!_ ’ was barely readable since the book hadn’t been touched for years and it looked battered. Alex remembered the coffee he accidentally poured on it when he was reading it.

It was easy to find Eliza’s works, all of them tucked carefully and nicely in another box. It wasn’t much, only three books, but all of them were great. ‘ _The Sky is the Limit_ ’, ‘ _That Would be Enough_ ’, and ‘ _When You were Mine_ ’, all of them were phenomenal and Alex liked them despite him not liking many romance novels. But Eliza’s works were always fresh, funny, and heart-wrenching at the same time. He should call her sometime as it had been awhile since they last talked.

Jefferson’s books were the hardest to find in his boxes despite the fact that Alex owned all of them. Alex never bought them himself, several copies were a gift from his parents and his fans often sent them to him for some reason. In Alex’s opinion, all of them were stupid, pretentious, and they made him wonder if Jefferson had a France-kink since in all of his books there would be at least one French character (yes, Alex read _all_ of them despite hating them, he believed he should read them to give his opinion about them). He found one of Jefferson's books, ‘ _Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness_ ’. Alex cringed at the title. This man put a quote from the Declaration of Independence as the title of his book. There must be some law against it, but this was Jefferson, he never cared. The man answered his door in a bathrobe, and Alex once saw him wearing a pair of pajamas to a meeting with his agent (not that Alex stalked him or anything, but they happened to go to the same coffee shop back when Alex was in college).

He threw the book into his pile and carried them to the living room. He didn’t want to join the writers’ panel blind; at least he would try to familiarize himself with their works. He still had two months, and he could try to find Maria Reynolds’ works in the bookstore later.

He curled up on his couch and read Eliza’s books first.

 

* * *

 

 

It was weird to have dinner in apartment 1777 without Hercules as he was usually the constant for dinner time. But Lafayette was home, and so was John. Hercules had prepared food for four days so his roommates and Alex wouldn’t starve to death. The first Tupperware they opened was the lasagna, which only needed to be reheated before they ate it. John handled the task since Lafayette was a disaster in the kitchen. Alex helped John serve the lasagna on the plates.

“I saw you reading Thomas Jefferson’s book,” John said, motioning to the book Alex had brought along so he could read after the meal. “Never knew you were a fan.”

“Definitely not a fan,” Alex said. He found another book of Jefferson’s in his box, ‘ _Planting Seeds in the Ground_ ’, the book he hated the most. The hard cover was bended after Alex threw it so hard to the wall the first time he read it. He was young. “I hate the book, but I decided to read it for work.”

“I really hate that book too,” John scoffed. “But I was glad he wrote it because now I can read ‘ _A Civics Lesson from a Slaver_ ’ as the result, do you know that one?”

Alex blushed and nodded. “Yeah, I know it,” he mumbled. Of course he knew, he was the one who _wrote_ it.

“Really loved it. It was like the counter-argument for romanticizing slavery in ‘ _Planting Seeds_ ’. Smart and witty, very sarcastic,” John gushed about the book, making Alex hope that John wouldn’t turn around and see his face. He was making a weird face now, he could feel it. “I get the feeling that ‘ _A Civics Lesson_ ’ was written out of pettiness after A. Hamilton read Jefferson’s book.”

Alex couldn’t deny it. He did write it because he thought Jefferson’s book was stupid. Tench almost had a heart attack when he came to him with a completely different manuscript than the one he was supposed to work on, but Alex told him he couldn’t work until this book published. And it wasn’t disappointing. Rivalry between Thomas Jefferson and A. Hamilton had been heard of before, but it got famous after these books. And even now, despite Alex’s protest, people kept saying reading ‘ _Planting Seeds in the Ground_ ’ and ‘ _A Civics Lesson from a Slaver_ ’ back to back would create an even funnier effect than reading each book by itself (Jefferson kept insisting his book wasn’t supposed to be funny, it was supposed to be bitter-sweet romance, Alex’s book was really a satirical fiction and subtle social commentary).

“Have you ever gone to one of Hamilton’s book events then?” Alex asked, suddenly feeling ashamed since it was basically him asking, ‘Do you like my books enough to make you go to meet me? Do you recognize me?’

“Never had the chance,” John sighed. “I planned to go once, but had to cancel it because Laf got into an accident. He crashed into a tree while riding a bicycle and got concussion. I was his emergency contact. It was a minor injury, but the doctor insisted that he stayed at the hospital for the night.”

Alex didn’t know if he should feel relieved or disappointed now. He felt bad for Lafayette for crashing into tree and getting a minor concussion, but he couldn't help but imagine the tall Frenchman in nice clothes riding a bicycle before crashing into a tree, he had to hold in his laugh.

“I have ‘ _A Civics Lesson_ ’ in my bookshelves if you wanted to read it,” John offered.

“Oh, I’ve already read it,” Alexander said slowly. Of course he already read it, he was the one who wrote it! Then Alex got an idea. “Do you have Maria Lewis’ books though?”

“Maria Lewis? I’m not sure… But I think Laf has them? I’m not into her books that much,” John said. “Lafayette loves romance and contemporary YA novels. He cried with Hercules when they read ‘ _When You were Mine_ ’ loudly to each other. I just sat there awkwardly,” John shrugged. “Let’s ask Laf.”

They returned to the living room where Lafayette was reading Alex’s book with a frown on his face.

“ _Mon petit lion_ , why in the world are you reading this terrible book?” he looked up to Alex who just handed him his share of lasagna. “Even the first chapter is—how you say—making my eyes bleeds!”

John just grinned at Alex and motioned to Lafayette. “See? Even a Jefferson’s fan thought that the book is horrible.”

“You like Jefferson’s books?” Alex asked Lafayette in horror.

“Eh, some of his works are interesting?”

“You just love it because he puts at least one French character in all of his books,” John snorted into his plate. “And your favorite is the one with the Declaration of Independence quotes as its title…”

“It’s so American! And it has a Frenchman as the main character! And still so American,” Lafayette said proudly. “But, I like that book too… The one you recommended to me, what was it call again…? Number, number something and another 21?”

“’ _5, 29, and the Other 51’_ ,” Alexander corrected unconsciously. He just realized the conversation had turned to his work again.

“ _Oui_! That’s the one,” Lafayette nodded. “I like it a lot.”

“Even though you couldn’t remember the title,” John grinned.

“John said you might have Maria Lewis’ books?” Alex asked quickly to steer the conversation away from his book (technically it was his and Madison’s, but Alexander still wrote the majority of it).

Lafayette frowned as he tried to remember. “Oh, right! I bought some when I was going to Beijing last year for light reading,” Lafayette nodded. “She’s a new writer, still young. Only wrote three books so far, all part of a series,” Lafayette explained. He got up from the couch and went to his section on the bookshelves. “Let’s see…” he mumbled. “This one,” he took one book, “And these two,” he took two others and handed them to Alex.

Alex smiled hopefully. “Can I borrow them?” he asked.

“Sure,” Lafayette nodded. “The first book is a bit slow, but it started to pick up after book two. You will want to punch the male protagonist though,” Lafayette grinned while Alexander frowned at the tiny spoiler.

They didn’t watch movie that night as they had dinner together, instead they were having book discussion. Alex let Lafayette and John talked about the books they read, they even got into heated debate about whether Aaron Burr was really dating Theodosia Prevost, the actress who was already married (Alex knew that Burr did date her, the man told Alex so when they met at the Christmas party that was hosted by the publishing company, attendance were mandatory). Alex kept steering the conversation away from A. Hamilton as much as he could. It was hard.

When Alexander returned to his apartment, he already had a huge stack of books he didn’t actually need to read. But John and Lafayette looked so happy, especially John as he shared his opinions about the books he owned. Alex could feel the warmth in his stomach as John proudly showed him his complete collection of A. Hamilton (Alex knew none of the book had his portrait on the biography part, except for his first book—but then again, Alex was 14, he changed a lot after over a decade). He smiled softly, wondering what he could do to show his thanks to John, Lafayette, and Hercules with all their hospitality. He remembered the boxes of expensive chocolate his fans sent his way after he blurted out he never tried that kind of chocolate before in his Twitter. Hercules and Lafayette looked like the guys who would appreciate such thing, and John was the type to eat any food in front of him.

Alex felt a bit guilty of keep coming to the 1777 and had dinner for free. He had been trying to bring the subject about him paying his share of meal, but Lafayette almost bit his fingers off, John smacked his head, and Hercules scolded him about how he shouldn’t think like that. Alex just realized the occupants of apartment 1777 had adopted him now as part of their weird family with Hercules as the single mom who just wanted to feed her son (a.k.a Alexander). Alex loved the apartment and the inhabitants. They were warm and dazzling together under the living room lights, curling up around each other and watching movies or simply lounging together. Alex envied the sight. The closest thing he had as friends were Angelica, Eliza, Madison, and maybe Aaron Burr (he still wasn’t sure, Burr was always weird). But he was never _that_ close with them and never had the same sort of camaraderie with them like John, Lafayette, and Hercules had.

As Alex curled on the couch in his empty apartment, he was falling deeper into his thought.

The books from John and Lafayette left untouched on the coffee table.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos feed my fingers to write faster, so don't hesitate~!


	3. Brother, Brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Kayla for beta-read this chapter!
> 
> Kudos and comments are very much appreaciated...

 

“What are you doing for Thanksgiving?” John asked the question while they were having dinner together as usual. Alexander realized that Thanksgiving would be next week and he still hadn’t answered his mother’s question.

“I’m going home,” Hercules said since his parents lived in the city. “What about you?” he asked Lafayette.

“I guess I’m staying here?” Lafayette looked at John. “Would you return to South Carolina?”

John scoffed. “As if. My Father would throw me out before I even stepped inside. I guess I’ll be here with Lafayette then. What about you, Alex?”

“I think I’ll just stay here too,” he said slowly.

“Well, I had hoped that I would be able to invite all of you to my family’s, but my mother invited annoying cousin #1 just like last year, and I doubt you want to deal with him again this year,” Hercules smiled apologetically. Lafayette and John scoffed at the idea of Hercules’ annoying cousin.

“What happened?” Alex asked curiously.

“Last year, Hercules invited Laf and me to join his family for Thanksgiving. Of course we agreed, since we know Mama Mulligan really well,” John explained. “What we didn’t know was Herc’s cousin also came. Long story short, we got into conversation at the dinner table and he asked about Laf and I. Of course the conversation turned into our jobs, with me being a nurse and Lafayette a photographer. And then he proceeded to tell Laf to get a real job despite between the three of us he might have had the highest pay, and he told me being a nurse is a woman’s job,” John sneered in distaste. “And then the fight broke out, poor Mama Mulligan,” John sighed, looking guilty.

“Thus, I can’t invite you this year,” Hercules sighed in disappointment. “My mom was looking up to see you again though…”

“Aww, we can visit after your cousin left then,” Lafayette chuckled. “And maybe we can bring Alex along.”

“That’s a good idea!” John nodded in agreement.

Alex just went along with the conversation. John and Lafayette invited Alex to have the Thanksgiving dinner together in the apartment since they had nowhere else to go. Hercules agreed to cook them something before he left for his parents’ house as usual. Alex never really enjoyed Thanksgiving with anyone outside his family since he left home for college. He still rarely went home, the only Holiday he went home to his adoptive family was for Christmas since Martha loved it and she always wanted the whole family together. Alex couldn’t refuse his Mom for this one always relented and tried his best to avoid Jacky.

Alex couldn’t help but feel grateful for the invitation. He would text Martha about the change of plans and to assure her he would be home for Christmas as usual. He used to spend his holiday alone, with pizza and work, but this time, he had friends to be with.

Alex blushed shyly when the warm fuzzy feeling bloomed again in his stomach.

 

* * *

 

 

“I can’t come home this year, Mom,” Alexander told Martha over the phone. His fingers were fiddling nervously with the hem of his sweater. “I got invited to dinner by my neighbors, remember the guys who live right across the hall?”

Martha Washington sighed softly over the phone.

“ _It’s okay, Alex. I’m really glad you that won’t spend your holiday working like last year, but with someone instead_ ,” her voice always sounded calming for Alex. Martha Washington might have small stature, the exact opposite of her husband, but she was a force to be reckoned, with a patience of a saint. “ _Your friends, they didn’t go home for holiday, though?_ ”

“Lafayette’s only family was in France and John isn’t very keen on going to South Carolina. You still remember Senator Laurens, right? Henry Laurens? Republican, homophobic, all-gay-people-should-go-to-hell, Henry Laurens?”

“ _Yes, I remember him. He’s quite popular in the Senate and his party,_ ” of course his mother would remember. George was a Senator after all, and he was quite popular in Democratic Party.

“Well, John Laurens is his son. They have quite rocky relationship,” Alex explained. “So, it will be me, Lafayette, and John. Hercules will cook before he headed to his parents’ house.”

“ _I see_ ,” his mom said over the phone. Alex knew she was disappointed he couldn’t come to Mount Vernon and join everyone for Thanksgiving dinner. “ _So, how are you, Alex? Are you well? I know you always get sick once the temperature drops and you’re always lacking sleep._ ”

Alex smiled as the conversation turned about his health now. Alex assured her he was fine, he ate well with the constant invitation to join Laf, Herc, and John for dinner. His mother was worried it would burden his neighbors too much, but Alex explained about him wanting to pay for his share of the meal and  got bitten and then lectured about it. He found another way to pay by bringing food items instead, like the weird melon he found on the internet and impulsively bought it and gave it to Hercules. Turned out, it was the best tasting fruit they ever eaten. Too bad he couldn’t find it anywhere else. But Alexander decided he would just come with some gifts he bought to be shared with the occupants of 1777 since they refused to accept money.

The call ended with Martha telling him to not neglect eating and sleeping. She was happy when Alex informed her about his work, and she couldn’t wait to brag about Alex’s new book in book club once it got published. His mom was always his biggest fan, his very first fan in fact, and it warmed his heart so much. He felt better now that he had talked to her.

It was easy to get himself back into his work again as he had an idea for his next book. He had been looking through his library to find research material and made a list of books he would need to buy. Alex loved the research part of his job, as he took notes and started to put down the ideas. The plot, the characters, he wrote everything down in his journal, and for once the sound that filled the room didn’t come from the clacking of the keyboard, but the soft scratch of his pen against the paper. He always found it easier to think when he wrote everything down by hand instead of typing it.

He didn’t know how long he had been working, probably a few hours, and when he looked out of his bare windows, he realized it was late. Usually, one of the 1777’s residents would knock on his door now—

And he was right. The loud obnoxious knock meant it was Lafayette. Alexander didn’t bother to fix his appearance when he opened the door and came face to face with the Frenchman, looking immaculate as usual. From the look of his getup, Alex could guess he just got home from a photo shoot for some fashion magazine. Lafayette only wore makeup for that type of work.

“ _Mon petit lion_! You look terrible,” he tutted.

Alex realized how ridiculous he would look, with his rat nest hair and oily skin, the hoodie he wore was really old it had holes, and his sweatpants hung really low on his hips. Not his best look.

“I was caught up with work,” he said, motioned vaguely behind him.

“Well, you will come and join us for dinner. And you should take a shower too. You can use ours,” Lafayette said and patted his head.

“Okay,” Alex nodded. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

He quickly got his change of clothes before he followed Lafayette to 1777. He smiled when Lafayette opened the door, and the warm feeling seeped through his skin comfortably.

It was a good feeling.

 

* * *

 

 

Alexander always loved bookstores. Not because of the proud feeling he got watching his works on display (well, _that_ too), but it was the very first memory he had of his mother. His biological mother, back in the Caribbean. He was still young; he couldn’t remember how old, but he could feel the ghost of her warm hand holding his. Delicate, yet calloused from all the hard work Rachel Faucette had to endure to raise her son.

His mother would bring him to the only bookstore on the island. They didn’t have a lot of money, but his Mother always spared some to buy Alex books, even if she could only afford the used ones, with battered covers or a few missing pages. Alex would read anything he could get his hands on; novels, biographies, anything. He just loved reading. He often spent his days in a small library, owned by an old man who used to be a professor in the States, which was always open for anyone in the town. Rachel Faucette couldn’t afford to buy her son more than a book each time they went into the bookstore, so Alex used the free library as much as he could.

Still, Alex loved the memory of going to a bookstore with his Mama. His Mama would let Alex chose any book he wanted, she would never say no to the book Alex had chosen. And Alex was a smart boy, he knew that they couldn’t afford to buy the nice looking collector edition books displayed in the glass case. He taught himself to find a book from the used books pile, sometimes he liked it better if the previous owner put some notes on the margins of the book. He found them helpful from time to time.

Now he was 25. He was no longer holding his Mama’s hand when he entered the bookstore. And the bookstore itself was no longer the small one they had back in the island. Alexander didn’t have to hold himself back by trying to find used books (though he still did sometimes). But the bookstore always brought him the memory of his Mama, of her telling young Alexander to find any book he wanted, and her warm hands guiding him carefully.

When he stepped inside, he greeted the owner with a nod. The owner of this particular store knew who he was, and he was always nice and helpful when Alex tried to find any particular book.

“How can I help you today, Mr. Hamilton?” he asked once Alex was close enough.

“I’m looking for these books,” Alex gave him the list he had put down on a piece of paper.

“Research for your new book?” the owner grinned.

“You can say that,” Alex nodded. “Do you have them?”

“Of course. I’ll get them for you. Feel free to look around, Sir,” the owner went to the backroom to get the books on the list. Alexander decided to roam around the store, looking through the new releases. He smiled when he saw familiar names written on the covers. He cringed when he saw another one of Jefferson’s book on display. A collection of his unpublished works, it made Alex wonder why he decided to publish it then. His hand reached for the hardcover version of the book. It was thick, he could hurt someone and send them to the hospital if he threw this at them. ‘ _Have You Read This? : A Collection of Unpublished Essays, Poems, and Others_ ’ written in metallic purple, with Jefferson’s face plastered on the cover. Alex had an urge to buy this so he could doodle on Jefferson’s face with a sharpie.

He was petty and childish, sue him.

He set the book aside and browsed some more. Madison published another book as well, ‘ _He Obfuscates, He Dances_ ’. Alex remembered that it had been awhile since he heard anything from Madison and reminded himself to e-mail him later. He took the book along with him to the register where the owner already got his books. He added Madison’s to the pile and waited while he scanned his purchases.

He walked back with an armful of books, smiling softly as he remembered the young boy from years ago would walk out clutching a battered book his Mama bought for him.

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

 

* * *

 

 

Alex didn’t know what he was expecting when he returned to his apartment. But he was sure it certainly wasn’t this as he stepped out of the elevator and onto his floor. A man was standing in front of the door of his apartment, looking like he had been there for a while. Alexander would recognize the dark brown curls and brown eyes anywhere.

He could never guess that he would see Jacky standing in front of his apartment door.

Jacky turned around when he heard the elevator door open. He smirked when he saw Alex stepping out of the doors, Alex’s eyes widened in surprise when he saw him there.

“Hello, _Alexander_ ,” Jacky smiled.

“Jacky,” Alex nodded stiffly. “I didn’t know that you were in town…”

Jacky shrugged. “I’m here visiting my girlfriend,” he said simply. “Would you invite me in, Alexander?”

Alex clutched his books tightly to calm himself down. He didn’t like the way Jacky said his name, he never did. He suddenly felt cold when he saw Jacky still smiling at him, a smile that never reached his eyes. Alex looked down, calming himself down before he answered.

“Alex? You’re home already?” another voice came from the door at the end of the hallway. The door for apartment 1777 was opened, and John Laurens was standing with his bag on his shoulder. From the look of it, John was on his way to work.

“John…” Alex looked up to his neighbor, suddenly felt relieved when saw John for some reason. John walked up to him with a small smile on his face as he looked at Jacky before he turned his attention back to Alex.

“Are you okay, Alex? You look pale,” he said gently and checked on him.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Alex said quickly. “Are you on your way to the hospital?”

“Yup. It looks like you will be having dinner with Laf and Herc unless you have got other plans?” he eyes Jacky curiously.

Alex let out a small smile. “I’ll text them later,” Alex answered vaguely. He still wasn’t sure why or how long Jacky would be staying.

“Okay. Take care,” he patted Alex cheek gently before he left. Alex watched him entered the elevator and nodded at John’s smile and small waves. He waited until the elevator door closed before he turned to Jacky and sighed. “Let’s go inside,” he said slowly. Alex opened his apartment door and let Jacky enter.

Alex carried his books and set them on his coffee table which already covered with his notes and books for his work. “You can sit on the couch,” Alex motioned as he went to the kitchen to find something to drink.

“Your apartment is empty,” Jacky stated, settling on the couch and glancing at all the papers on the coffee table. “Who was that guy before? _Boyfriend_?”

“My neighbor,” Alex answered shortly. “He and his roommates often invite me over for dinner.” He handed a glass of water to Jacky.

“Hmm…” Jacky didn’t say anything as he studied Alex notes without touching them. “He has roommates then?”

“Yeah. Two. They were friends from college,” Alex said, wasn’t sure where these questions would lead him.

“They must be close then,” Jacky mumbled. “They must be very kind to take you in.”

“They’re good people.”

Alex always felt awkward around Jacky. After everything that happened back when they were younger and the mess Alex created in the family, Jacky always made him felt awkward and he knew it. Alex expected him to be in DC or maybe somewhere in Las Vegas for all he knew.

The Washington family was rich, Martha’s late husband owned several companies which she inherited and took over after her husband’s death. After Martha married George, they combined their fortune as George’s family was made of old money in Virginia. Martha put people in charge of the companies while holding the majority of the shares. Jacky knew that he didn’t have to work with how the businesses thrived; he mostly spent his time trying to dabble in random businesses unsuccessfully. Nowadays Jacky was living the life of rich socialite as the son of a senator and the heir of the companies.

George had given up trying to control his stepson, as long as he didn’t cause a huge scandal he was free to do whatever he pleased. Besides, Jacky was old enough to take care of himself.

And now he was sitting on Alex’s old couch, drinking water in silence.

“So… your girlfriend moved here?” Alex tried to start a conversation since the silence was unbearable. “Isn’t she like a singer… from California, right?”

“We broke up,” Jacky shrugged. “My new girlfriend, Eleanor, lives in the city. Her family owns a real estate company in Maryland. You must have heard of them, the Calverts.”

Alex had heard that name before, something about company merging, he remembered reading an article on the news site. So Jacky was dating an heiress.

“I see,” Alex nodded. “Why are you here, Jacky?” He was curious. Surely Jacky would have a reason to come to him, and he was pretty sure this wasn’t just a social visit.

“Can’t a man check on his younger brother after years of him leaving home?” Jacky smirked, looking up from his seat to Alex who was still standing aside, hand crossed over his chest.

“You’re not here to check up on me,” Alex sighed and sat down as far away as he could from Jacky on the couch. He curled up on the couch out of habit.

Jacky just shrugged. “I’m staying here tonight. Which one is the bedroom?” Jacky pushed himself up and looked at the three doors. He didn’t wait for an answer, he just opened the first door on the right and smiled. “Bingo,” he found the bedroom. “I need to borrow your clothes.”

Alexander sighed and got up to go to his closet and get some clothes for his adoptive brother. There was no way he could join Lafayette and Hercules for dinner tonight. He returned to the couch and texted Lafayette before he called for takeout.

And then he waited.

 

* * *

 

 

Alex didn’t sleep that night.

He laid awake, confused for why his adoptive brother came to his place out of nowhere. His relationship with Jacky wasn’t the best. He still remembered the hateful frown Jacky had thrown at him every time Dad and Mom gave him praise for his work. Alex was just trying to be a good boy, a good son. He did what he knew would make his Mama proud, because he was hoping it would also make the Washingtons proud. Losing his Mama wasn’t easy. He still remembered the frail, too thin arms wrapped around him as the fever made him delirious, yet his Mama kept whispering gentle words to make him feel better despite her own fever weakening her.

He could feel when his Mama stopped moving, stopped _living_ , and her arms slowly getting cold and he was clinging to her for dear life because he didn’t want to let her go. He kept holding onto her because she was the only one left. His uncle found him, and pried him off of his Mama’s cold body while Alex was screaming and crying, begging to stay with her.

When he got better, his uncle told him he would live with his cousin, because, just like his Mama, his uncle was poor and he couldn’t take Alex with him. What they didn’t know was his cousin’s mental state wasn’t exactly right to care for Alex at that moment. And after he lost his job, he took his own life, leaving Alex all alone. He was put into the system until he met George Washington and his wife who were on vacation at the moment in that tiny island.

They adopted him, giving him a new house and family, something that Alex would fight tooth and nails to hold on to. Back then, he didn’t realize he just pushed aside Jacky to make a place of his own.

_“You don’t have anything, Alexander. You don’t have friends, you don’t have family, you don’t have a home. You have nothing. You are nothing. I’m tired of watching you clinging pathetically to MY father and MY mother. You mess up everything you touch. Why do you think YOUR father left? YOUR mother died? Why do you think YOUR cousin shot himself?! You’re a parasite, Alexander. You take, and you take, and you take. You’re killing MY family.”_

Alex closed his eyes and curled into his blanket when Jacky’s voice from that night started  ringing loudly in his head. He destroyed things. He messed things up.

So he put some distance between himself and the Washingtons  to save whatever was left of the their family. He left their big house, started to fend for himself. His place in that house had destroyed their son, distanced their daughter. It was his fault. He shouldn’t have sat in the front yard of the orphanage when George and Martha walked by. He should have said “No” when George and Martha asked him to live with them. He should’ve never given his first written book to Martha for her birthday. He should have said “No” when Martha asked if she could send the manuscript to a publisher. He should have been just an ordinary boy back then, and maybe…

Maybe…

Alex took a deep breath as he opened his phone. Lafayette had texted him back saying it was okay if he had other plans and couldn’t join them for dinner.

John was probably still on his shift back at the hospital.

He wondered if he could call John, if the man wasn’t busy. They could just talk. And he missed Hercules’ homemade dinner. Lafayette said they were having meatloaf tonight. Alex knew Hercules’ meatloaf would just be as heavenly as his lasagna.

“You will ruin them too, Alexander.”

Alex jumped out of his skin when he heard that voice coming from behind the couch. He quickly sat up to see Jacky was already dressed in his expensive coat and suits from the day before. Alex realized it was already early in the morning.

“You ruin everything you touch, just like what you will do to those neighbors of yours,” Jacky smirked. “I’m leaving now. If Dad calls, tell him I was with you. Goodbye, Alexander.”

And just like that he left.

Alexander sat alone in his empty apartment, suddenly feeling colder than he ever had.

 

* * *

 

 

“Alex isn’t coming over for dinner again?” John asked Lafayette and Hercules, it had been two days since the last time he saw Alex in front of his apartment talking to a guy John had never seen around before. Alex hadn’t joined them for dinner for a couple of days now, Lafayette and Hercules had gone to his apartment to get him, but his door was locked and no one answered. He didn’t reply to their messages, his apartment was dark, making them wonder if Alex had gone somewhere and not told them. They were sitting on the couch as usual, eating dinner while watching movies.

“Last text he sent telling me he couldn’t come because he had other plans, and then he asked about what Herc made, and said it sounded really good,” Lafayette sighed. “I tried to call him last night, he didn’t answer his phone nor his door. And he doesn’t go out much, so I don’t know.”

“Do you think it has something to do with that guy?” John muttered as he shoved his food into his mouth.

“What guy?” Hercules raised an eyebrow.

“I saw him talking to a guy In front of his apartment. I’m not sure who he was though his face looked pretty familiar,” John sighed. “But I’m really worried about how Alex acted when I saw him…”

“What?” Lafayette asked curiously.

“He looked… scared? I guess… I’m not sure. But Alex clearly wasn’t comfortable,” John mumbled as he tried to remember Alex’s face back then. “He was like… being cornered or something…”

“Like being blackmailed? Bullied? Threatened?” Lafayette raised an eyebrow.

“Not sure,” John sighed. “But I don’t like it. The guy looked… _wrong_.” John remembered the guy’s posture, looming over Alex’s small frame as he held onto his books tighter and curled into himself defensively. It made John’s blood boiled at the recollection.

Lafayette and Hercules exchanged looks before they turned back to their friend. “Say, how do you feel about Alex, _mon ami_?” Lafayette asked curiously.

“Huh?” John frowned as he looked at Lafayette. “What do you mean?”

“We see the way you look at him, John. You get that look every time you see someone you like,” Lafayette said gently, patting his shoulder. “You sparkle when ever _mon petit lion_ is around.”

“Little lion?” John looked at his friend and smiled. “Alex is little, yes, but a _lioni?”_

“Just you wait, _mon ami_. Eventually, our little lion will roar,” Lafayette chuckled. “We just need to _unlock_ him first. And nice try diverting the subject,” Lafayette winked. “So, your feelings”

John sighed as he slumped further into the couch before he answered. “I don’t know. I just… feel like I want to protect him…” he remembered the scared look on Alex’s eyes, and the awkward demeanor the first time they invited him for dinner. “I know he’s been through a lot… And I want to protect him…”

He wasn’t sure if he should call the feeling ‘love’, but John didn’t need a name for it. He just knew he cared for Alex, and he would do anything to keep him from anything that would hurt him.

Though he wouldn’t deny that he thought Alexander was cute.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what do you think?


	4. Finding Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunion with the old and new friends...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is beta-read by Kayla! Thank you for your help!
> 
> Sorry for the long wait! I lost the mood writing this for a while and needed a break by writing for other fandoms, but your comments and kudos returned my muse! Keep them coming, guys! Thanks for all the kudos and comments!

 

Lafayette wondered if seeing Alex in the grocery stores again was some kind of freaky fate thing. He was pushing his cart through the aisle when he saw Alex, he was contemplating in front of the cereals, probably thinking about which one he should buy. It had been days since Alex last  joined them for dinner, and tomorrow was Thanksgiving, and Lafayette wondered if Alex would still join them after the radio silence. He sighed when he saw Alex filling his cart with unhealthy food, _again_.

“Alex,” He called out once they were close enough.

Alex’s head snapped up, his eyes widened when he saw Lafayette was standing there.

“Lafayette…” Alex mumbled.

Lafayette wanted to scold him, but the guilty and vulnerable look on Alex’s face stopped him. The shorter man had curled into himself, so Lafayette smiled.

“It’s been awhile, _mon ami_ ,” he chuckled. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” Alex mumbled, his fingers played with the hem of his sweater.

“We have missed you,” Lafayette said casually. “Herc wonders if you are eating alright, I mean, you’re all skin and bones and he’s determined to fatten you up. We love to have you around,” Lafayette patted his head gently. “John is also worried, we have been trying to talk to you, but it doesn’t seem like you have been at your apartment.”

“I’m sorry,” Alex mumbled.

“Not your fault, _mon petit lion_ ,” Lafayette said simply. “But tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and Herc is planning on making this huge feast for the three of us before he leaves. How about you join us? It would be a waste since I doubt John and I will be able to eat everything…”

Alex blushed lightly and Lafayette had to restrain himself from cooing since he looked so adorable. “I’ll… I’ll be there…” Alex said softly.

“Good! I’ll tell Herc and John, then,” Lafayette nodded in satisfaction.

The two of them continued their shopping before Lafayette drove them back to their apartment. Alex still looked a bit uneasy, but his body seemed more relaxed now. Lafayette didn’t know what happened to Alex, but he was sure he would find out once Alex was ready.

 

* * *

 

 

Alex didn’t know why he returned to apartment 1777. After Jacky left, his words kept echoing in Alex’s head, drowning him, muffling any sound. Alex ruined everything he touched, even his own family. If he was a better son, his father would’ve stayed. If he wasn’t sick, his Mama wouldn’t have gotten sick either. If his cousin didn’t take him in, maybe he would still be alive. So many if’s and maybe’s could happen. Alex spent his day walking around the city, without any particular direction.

He just knew he had to get out before his thoughts engulfed him.

He had to walk it off.

And suddenly, the warmth of apartment 1777 and its tenants, of Hercules cooking, of Lafayette’s smile, and John’s presence seemed far away already. And he found himself back in his empty and cold room, eating frozen food instead of the homemade meatloaf Hercules made. He was sitting on his empty couch instead of tucked in between John and Lafayette.

He convinced himself this was better.

He could still write.

He had always been alone anyways.

But now, here he was standing in front of apartment 1777 with an expensive bottle of wine in his hands. He didn’t know why he had dressed nice, but his body told him this was better. Yet his mind screamed at him  to leave them alone and return to his apartment before he also ruined these people.

Alex’s touch ruined every—

“Alex! You’re here!” his thought was cut short with the sight of John opening the door. His hair was tied in low ponytail as usual, his smile was still cheerful. John always felt like light; warm, bright, he sparkled under the light of the living room. And Alex was standing there, unmoving, basking in every bit of that light he could get.

“What are you doing, just standing there, _mon ami_? Come in!” Lafayette’s voice always loud and cheery, and when he pulled Alex into his arms in a crushing hug, Alex wanted to cling on to him and never let go.

Hercules was standing behind them, a safe presence of comfort and reassurance. Just like Lafayette, the huge man pulled Alex into his own version of crushing hug and ruffled his hair affectionately.

Alex sighed. He missed this.

Alex’s stomach felt full already.

He felt warm.

 

* * *

 

 

John Laurens was happy with his life. He had great friends, he had a job he wanted instead of following the path his father had chosen for him, his life was great. Sure, when working as a nurse he wasn’t paid as much as a lawyer would be, but it was the road he had chosen for himself. He’d like to think of it as a one last “Fuck you!” after he told his father that he was gay and left for college. John was a hard worker, he was smart enough to get a scholarship. He worked at a coffee shop where he later met Lafayette and Hercules, and the three of them became best friends and roommates.

They stayed in New York, and decided to keep being roommates to afford the nice apartment. Hercules worked in a high end custom tailor shop his family owned, and Lafayette was making a name for himself.

His life was great.

And then it became even better when he saw Alexander sitting in the living room for the first time, settled between Lafayette and Hercules, clutching his plate looking all skittish and awkward and he was looking at John. His hair was pulled into a bun, hastily tied, making several strands fell, framing his face. His eyes were expressive, although the dark shadows underneath marred his youthful face, John guessed he was a few years younger than himself, or maybe it was the effect from the oversized hoodie he wore that night. Either way, John decided he wanted to protect this man. Whatever it would be from, he didn’t care. He just wanted to wrap those thin shoulders in a blanket and hold him close.

John was happy when they decided to bring Alex into their “family”. He never asked questions because he didn’t want to scare Alex away. Lafayette and Hercules decided it didn’t matter who Alex was, as far as they concerned, Alex was their neighbor. He lived alone and rarely went out unless it was for a walk or a short shopping trip.

And Alex himself fit easily into their life. He might have been quiet and a bit skittish the first time he came over, but John could see his shell starting to crack. He was opinionated, and he knew a lot about literature. John could see his face lit up when the conversation stirred into books, and he really hated Jefferson.

And then, John remembered the man he saw standing with Alex in front of his apartment door. Just from one look, John knew that man was _wrong_. The way he was looming over Alex, not touching, but still intimidating, and Alex was curling up to himself defensively. If John wasn’t on his way to work, he would’ve invited Alex along to get away from the man. But Alex told him he was fine.

Clearly he wasn’t.

John should’ve listened to his instinct because it had been a few days and he hasn’t once seen Alex. The man just… vanished without a word or any sort of notification. His apartment was dark whenever John walked past it. He didn’t know if Alex had locked himself inside or if he left to go somewhere else. It wasn’t clear. But he knew something had happened after John left Alex to talk to the man.

He knew that he said he didn’t want to pry into Hamilton’s life, but he needed to know about that man. Who was he? An old friend? A boyfriend? Someone from work?

He wanted to ask, and he couldn’t contain his curiosity anymore. He might have to burst the comfort bubble when Alex was tucked between him and Lafayette after their Thanksgiving dinner, John thought as they sat together around the small dinner table (contrary to popular belief, they _do_ have a dinner table, they just rarely use it. Thanksgiving dinner sounded like a perfect opportunity to actually use it). Hercules had outdid himself with the turkey, John wondered what would happen to them if Hercules wasn’t around (maybe they would have starved to death or ordered takeout every day until they were sick of it).

The conversation went pleasantly. Lafayette talked to them mostly, about his plan to visit South-East Asia next year, rambling about the photo exhibition he was planning with this theme. Alex just nodded, giving short comments to him while still looking awkward. John was happy that Lafayette bumped into Alex in the supermarket and managed to invite him to dinner again. But John easily noticed the tension in Alex’s posture, as if he felt awkward after his disappearance.

After they were done with dinner, they relocated to the couch where Lafayette turned the TV on and settled on some random channel in Spanish. As usual, Alex tucked between John and Lafayette. John took a deep breath before he looked at Alex.

“Can I ask you something?” John started slowly.

“Hm?” Alex looked up to him, his head was resting on Lafayette’s arm.

“The man… the one I saw in front of your apartment a few days ago,” he felt Alex tense slightly, but John continued on. “Who was he?”

Alex didn’t say anything, but John could feel him fidgeting slightly beside him, probably feeling uncomfortable.

“He was my brother,” Alex said in the end.

“I see,” John decided to not pursue farther, he just wrapped his arms around Alex protectively. John had to admit, Alex and the man didn’t look like brothers. Not only by appearances, but their interactions were also anything but brotherly. There was something going on between Alex and his brother, but John knew it wasn’t his place to pry. If Alex wanted to tell him, he would listen. But he would not pry into it.

Lafayette sensed that Alex was uncomfortable he diverted the conversation easily. “My Adrienne is coming to town for Christmas,” he said loudly, bragging to his two friends. It quickly turned the conversation somewhere else.

“Who’s Adrienne?” Alex asked curiously.

“My fiancée,” Lafayette said proudly. “She works in Paris, but her boss gave her extended vacation and she decided that she would come to New York instead of having me visit her like usual,” he explained.

“Sounds fun,” John chuckled. “You can finally meet Lafayette’s fiancée, Alex. And I assure you, she is not just a figment of Laf’s overly active imagination.”

“From how perfect she sounds from Laf’s description, I had no choice but to suspect it as it was,” Alex chuckled softly and snuggled up to John. “She must be a saint to be able to stay with Lafayette for so long despite the distance.”

“My Adrienne is perfect. Do you want to see her pictures?” Lafayette never missed a chance to gloat about his beloved.

The conversation continued on until John felt Alex lean heavily against him and snore softly. John smiled as he made Alex more comfortable and let him sleep through the night.

 

* * *

 

 

Alex had been staring at his phone for a while now. It was an early morning in the middle of December, and Alex was bundled up on his couch feeling too lazy to move. He had started to make his apartment more homely, and by that he meant he had started to arrange his books on the shelves. He still hadn’t gotten the curtains for the windows, or a bed for the guest room. He was busy with his work, and he already had everything planned out for his next book. But last night, a text came in from an old friend he hadn’t seen for quite some time.

Elizabeth Schuyler asked him if he would be home, she was in New York to visit her father. Alex knew Eliza from her sister, Angelica, who was a friend from college. Her father, Philip Schuyler, was a Senator from New York, and George knew him well. Not to mention, Eliza was also a writer, just like Alex, though she wasn’t as productive as she was busy with her other job, running a private orphanage and several charities took up most of her time. Eliza was one of few people he would consider his friend. Sure, he had been out of contact with Eliza since he moved to this apartment, but it was more because Alex was busy with his job and Eliza with hers.

He wondered why she suddenly asked. Maybe she just wanted to meet up, so Alex responded, saying he would be home today. He set his phone down and started to work for a few hours before he heard someone knock on his door. Alex got up and walked to the front door, he didn’t bother to check before he opened it.

A young woman stood in front of him, dressed in fashionable off-white coat. Her dark hair was pulled into a half ponytail underneath a baby blue beanie that she had on. Alex easily recognized her as Eliza Schuyler, smiling brightly when she met Alex’s gaze.

“Alex!” she greeted him cheerfully, hugging him and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “I really missed you,” she pulled away and squeezed Alex’s arms as if she was checking him for injury or any other sickness. “You got thinner…” she frowned.

“Eliza,” Alex sighed softly. “Wait… How did you find my address?”

“Well, aren’t you going to let me in first?” Eliza asked, she was always sweet.

“Sure,” Alex nodded and let her in quickly. Suddenly he felt embarrassed with the state of his place, despite not having too much furniture, his couch and coffee table were a complete mess and he still hadn’t bought curtains. Eliza looked around, but didn’t say anything before she turned her attention back to Alex.

“I met Mrs. Washington at the last fundraiser in DC. I asked her about you and she said you weren’t home for Thanksgiving. She gave me your address so I can visit you since I’ll be in New York for a while,” Eliza explained. “How are you doing, Alex?” she asked.

“I’m fine, Eliza. Working on my next book,” Alex nodded at the table.

“You really do write like you’re running out of time,” Eliza sighed fondly. “I never understood how you do that,” she shook her head.

Alex shrugged. “It’s the only thing I have, Eliza,” he just smiled at her. That was the _only_ thing he could do and not fuck it up.

“Well, now we should go shopping,” Eliza announced. “Your apartment needs a few things and I want to give you a housewarming gift,” she said. Without waiting for Alex’s permission, she walked around the apartment, checking every room to see what they would need. She smiled knowingly when she saw that the library was the only room that looked less empty with all the shelves filled and collections of books that kept growing. “After that, we can have lunch with Angelica.”

“Angelica?” Alex raised an eyebrow.

“Yes. Now take a shower, change your clothes, we’re going out.”

 

* * *

 

 

The shopping went well. They bought curtains for the windows, lots of kitchen equipment that Eliza insisted he would need, and a TV. Eliza said the TV was the housewarming gift from her, Angelica, and basically the Schuyler clan. Eliza made sure that everything was to be sent to the apartment so they didn’t have to carry everything around by themselves.

They went to a small Cuban restaurant for lunch, where Angelica would meet up with  them. She was already waiting when Alex and Eliza arrived. Just like her sister, Angelica was stunning, dressed sharply, making Alex wonder if she just got here from the university. She was older than Alex, even though they finished college at the same time. Through Angelica, Alex knew Eliza, and their youngest sister, Peggy.

“Alex, you haven’t called me since you moved into your new apartment and that was like two months ago,” Angelica pulled him into a bone-crushing hug and kissed his cheek. “What in the world, young man?” she frowned.

“I e-mailed you the RSVP for the writers’ panel…” Alex said.

Angelica just glared at him. “You’re in New York, I’m in New York. We should meet up more often,” she sighed. “Tell him, Eliza.”

“Sorry, I have so much work to do,” Alex sighed. “My new book will be released the day before Christmas.”

“Another? Didn’t you just publish two works earlier this year?” Angelica raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. A novel and essay collection,” Alex shrugged.

“Have you ever taken a break, Alex? You’re gonna kill yourself,” Angelica shook her head. “Even Thomas gets worried about you.”

“Stevens?”

“Jefferson.”

“Thomas fucking Jefferson? Worried about me?” he snorted. Of all the people in the world who might be worried about him (including the fans, the haters, the people who had never read his books or heard his name), Thomas Jefferson would never cross his mind. Sure, he had known Thomas for a very long time, and the first time he knew the man was when he started to live with the Washingtons. Jefferson was an old family friend to the Washingtons, in fact, Thomas’ wife, Martha, was a good friend of Martha Washington. The first time they met, Alex was 13 and Thomas was in his late twenties and already a famous author. Their first meeting wasn’t exactly the best as far as Alex could remember.

“Yeah. I gave him your book… ‘ _How to Say Goodbye_ ’, I think? And I have to admit it’s a good book, but Thomas was like, ‘Is Hamilton feeling okay?’ after he finished the first chapter,” Angelica explained with a knowing smirk.

Alex scoffed. “First of all, there’s no way Jefferson said that,” Alex said. “And second, why would he care?”

“Well, I was paraphrasing,” Angelica said. “The two of you can say how much you hated each other, but I know you actually care,” she smiled smugly.

“You know nothing, Angelica,” Alex scoffed. “And stop talking about Jefferson, you ruined my appetite.”

The two sisters laughed and shook their heads. Alex would always be Alex.

 

* * *

 

 

Eliza followed him after lunch, saying she would help Alex with the curtains and cleaning out his apartment since she thought Alex was too helpless to be trusted by himself. Well, Alex was supposed to work anyways, and he had spent more time shopping and at lunch than he was planning to, so having Eliza helping him would make the work go by faster.

When they arrived at the apartment, Alex went to the building security, asking for his stuff that had been delivered, the building security had received everything since no one was in the apartment. With Eliza’s help, they managed to get everything together into the elevator before they went to Alex’s floor. Eliza looked so proud at the sight of the TV they just bought. It wasn’t exactly big since Alex rarely watched it anyway, but it was good for background noise.

The two of them managed to haul everything to Alex’s door while he found his key in the many pockets of his pants. At the other end of the hallway, the elevator ding-ed softly and the door opened, three figures stepping out of it.

“Alex?” a familiar voice called, making Alex and Eliza turned to the source of the voice.

John was walking up to them, followed by Lafayette and a woman Alex didn’t recognize. The woman was dressed nicely, fashionable yet practical, and he could see Lafayette holding her hand.

“Hi, John,” Alex smiled shyly as Lafayette smirked, watching the items around Alex’s and Eliza’s feet with a knowing look. “Hi, Lafayette.”

“ _Mon petit lion!_ ” Lafayette cheered happily. “Let me introduce you to my lovely Adrienne,” he smiled proudly. “ _Ma chérie, this is my friend, Alex,_ ” Lafayette introduced him to the woman in French. Alex shook hands with her and smiled.

“ _Hi, I’m Alex,_ ” he introduced himself back. “ _Oh, and this is my friend, Eliza_.” He introduced Eliza to the three of them, repeating the words in English since Eliza didn’t speak French. “Eliza, this is John Laurens and Lafayette, they lived across the hallway, and this lady is Lafayette’s fiancée, Adrienne, which I just met.”

“It’s nice to meet you. Elizabeth Schuyler,” Eliza waved at John, Lafayette, and Adrienne.

“Schuyler?” Adrienne asked, her eyes widened when she looked at Eliza’s face. “Like the writer… uh… _what’s it called in English_ … ah, ‘ _The Sky is the Limit’_?”

“That’s me!” Eliza’s smile was the sweetest.

“I’m a huge fan!” Adrienne’s accent was thick, especially now when she was excited. “ _Wait, wait… I know you too…_ ” Adrienne now turned to Alex. Alex could feel his body was frozen when recognition appeared in Adrienne’s face. “ _You’re Hamilton! A. Hamilton!_ ” she squealed even louder now.

John and Lafayette now were looking at him, eyes wide; because of course they would recognize the name, A. Hamilton. Alex looked down to his shoes, suddenly his dirty sneakers looked interesting, blushing when John and Lafayette kept staring at him. Eliza still smiling, though she didn’t understand the situation. Alex didn’t mean to lie, he just… didn’t say anything since his neighbors never exactly asked for his last name.

“Wait… Alex is A. Hamilton?” John asked slowly. “As in… _that_ A. Hamilton, Hamilton?”

Adrienne blinked. “ _Oui_! I met him last summer in Boston when there was a book signing. You didn’t know… wait, was it supposed to be a secret?” she gasped, quickly turning to Alex who was still hoping the ground would open up and swallow him up now.

Alex just stood there awkwardly, still avoiding everyone’s gaze. “It wasn’t… It’s just… never came up,” he mumbled quietly. Eliza raised an eyebrow when she saw how quiet and awkward Alex was and quickly swooped in.

“Well, it’s nice meeting you guys, but Alex and I still have to put everything inside,” she motioned to the purchases around them.

“Oh! It’s okay,” Adrienne nodded. “It’s really nice meeting my two favorite authors!” she was still gushing.

John cleared his throat and looked at Alex carefully. “Do you want to join us for dinner today? Herc is cooking. And of course, Ms. Schuyler is invited as well,” John said slowly, looking from Alex to Eliza.

“Oh, I’d love to. And you can call me Eliza,” Eliza nodded. “Alex?”

“We’ll come,” Alex nodded and smiled slightly. “I’ll see you later then.”

He wondered what would happen now that the cat was out of the bag. His stomach churned and he wondered if he should go to apartment 1777 at all.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason I can't access my Tumblr at the moment so you can contact me on Twitter @AquaReg30223690~
> 
> Tell me what do you think?

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what do you think?
> 
> Don't hesitate to scream with me on Tumblr: @aquaregiastuff


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